


The Very First Page

by finkpishnets (orphan_account)



Category: X Factor RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-04
Updated: 2011-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-28 13:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/308226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/finkpishnets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>It had started as a joke, he and Ali trying to make some extra money by helping a few local girls sort out their weddings, organising the flowers and cake and finding people to fix the bridesmaid dresses when they got stepped on amongst tears and tantrums. Matt hadn’t expected to actually be good at it.</i> The Wedding Planner AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Very First Page

**Author's Note:**

> For tellcincinnati's prompt _The Wedding Planner AU. Matt meets Aiden, his perfect guy, only to find out he's to be planning Aiden's wedding._ at the Matt  & Aiden are actually married comment!ficathon. Even though this is in no way comment!fic. Oh dear.

It had started as a joke, he and Ali trying to make some extra money by helping a few local girls sort out their weddings, organising the flowers and cake and finding people to fix the bridesmaid dresses when they got stepped on amongst tears and tantrums. Matt hadn’t expected to actually be _good_ at it.

 

+

 

“New client,” Ali says, handing him a file and a coffee that Matt takes with a relieved groan. “Young, blonde, already informed me she wants pink roses and Whitney Houston.”

Matt winces. “Ouch. And the groom?”

“Working I guess. Besides, I’m pretty sure he won’t be getting a say in things.”

Matt sighs. “Great, another bridezilla.”

“Remember how Rebecca banned that word on account of how it makes girls cry?” Ali says, grinning, and Matt glares at him.

“Rebecca can just start carrying around more bloody tissues then,” Matt says, and Ali laughs.

Ali takes the coffee back as they reach Matt’s office and whispers “deep breaths” as Matt opens the door, offering him a thumbs up as he walks away. Matt hates his best friend sometimes.

 

+

 

“Aren’t you supposed to be hiring awkward cover bands and shit DJ’s as we speak?” Ali says when Matt answers his phone.

“Probably,” Matt says, handing the barmaid a tenner and sticking the change back in his pocket, “but right now I’m going to try and hold on to the last threads of my sanity by drinking beer and watching actual musicians play actual instruments in a dark, dank environment. The awkward cover bands and shit DJ’s can wait ‘til tomorrow.”

Ali laughs. “Fair enough,” he says, “but Rebecca says to tell you that if you try and put your bar tab on expenses again she’s going to burn your skateboard. I’m actually impressed and mildly turned on right now.”

“Oy,” Matt says, “no defiling Rebecca.”

“Spoil sport,” Ali says, cheerfully. “Anyway, enjoy your night of cheep booze and sweaty teenagers.”

Matt hangs up mostly because Ali has a point.

There’s too many people and not enough space and the beer tastes a little bitter on his tongue but he doesn’t care because it’s not champagne and cake and small talk and that’s what he needs right now.

The bassist trips over his amp as the band walk on and it takes them a few minutes to tune their instruments against the already drunken cheers. Matt leans back against the bar watching them set up; they’re young, younger than they probably should be to play in a place like this, but they’re all very attractive and when the lead singer with the dark curls smiles at the audience Matt knows they’ll have the crowd for the rest of the night.

The guitarist’s just introducing their first song when someone knocks against Matt’s arm, his drink spilling over the rim of his glass and onto his shirt.

“Shit,” they say, “I’m sorry!”

Matt looks up; the guy’s wearing a scarf indoors and has his hair styled into some kind of bizarre quiff, biting at his bottom lip apologetically, and he’s _gorgeous_.

“It’s fine,” Matt says, “seriously. It probably needed washing anyway.”

The guy smiles and Matt’s holding out a hand and saying “Hi, I’m Matt,” before he can think about it.

“Aiden,” the guys says, his hand warm in Matt’s, and Matt has to remind himself that it’s probably a good idea to let go sometime.

 

+

 

Aiden’s friends with the band and drinks lager from the bottle and likes Jimi Hendrix and John Mayer and when he says “I was thinking of sneaking off to McDonald’s actually; I’m starving and I’ve heard this set a hundred times” Matt tags along because he’s not heard the music anyway, too focused on the way Aiden’s hands move as he talks and he shows too many teeth when he smiles.

They talk about music and films and their families and it’s easy and natural and fun and Matt hates that he needs to be up in the morning for work because it means that the night actually has to end.

Aiden tugs his cardigan closer around him as they step outside, cheeks flushed from the sudden change in heat, and Matt wonders whether he could get away with kissing him.

“Well,” Aiden says, and the moment’s gone. “Night.”

It’s only when he’s walked off, one last grin thrown over his shoulder, that Matt realises he didn’t even get his number.

 

+

 

“You look suspiciously hangover-less,” Ali says when Matt walks in, eyes narrowed, and Matt shrugs.

“I only had the one.”

Ali blinks. “I’m sorry, you what? Matt, you can drink three pints any given _lunchtime_ and still be able to work the rest of the afternoon.”

“And last night I didn’t,” Matt says, “what the big deal?”

“Oh my God,” Ali says, “you got laid.”

“I did _not_ ,” Matt says, sounding bitter, and then curses under his breath as Ali starts laughing.

“Even better,” he says. “You _met_ someone.”

“Maybe,” Matt says. “Okay, yes, shut up.”

They nod to Rebecca as they pass her desk and she waves cheerfully as she continues telling the person on the other end of the phone that it’s not actually going to be possible for them to ice-skate down the aisle if they still want it in a church.

“Go on then,” Ali says, shuffling through a pile of mail on his own desk. “Tell me all about him.”

“No,” Matt says, “because then you’ll have to disown me for being a sickeningly sappy sod.”

“Nice use of alliteration there,” Ali says, passing Matt a handful of letters, “maybe you should write him a poem.”

“I hate you,” Matt says, and Ali grins.

“I know. Now bugger off; my nine o’clock will be here soon.”

“Seriously,” Matt calls as he walks away, “I want my best friend bracelet back!”

 

+

 

“Matt,” Rebecca says, sticking her head around the door, “your eleven o’clock is here.”

“Great,” Matt says, plastering a false smile onto his face and trying to look like he wasn’t just playing solitaire.

“Matt,” Emily says as she walks in, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek, “it’s good to see you again.”

“You too,” Matt lies, and wonders where he left that ‘ _Reasons You Do Not Want Whitney Houston As Your First Song Besides The Fact That It Makes You Look Like A Tasteless Bint_ ’ list he’d written the other night. He really hopes Ali didn’t put it on his pin-board.

“My fiancé’s actually made it today,” Emily says, taking a seat and crossing her legs carefully. She glances towards the door as it opens again, Rebecca’s voice ushering someone in. “Ah, here he is.”

Matt looks up preparing to offer his hand, give the guy the look that says ‘ _Yes, I’m a wedding planner, but I’m still a bloke, mate, promise_ ’ that so many grooms-to-be require to feel comfortable, except then there’s the scarf and the quiff and the _Aiden_ , and Matt freezes.

“Oh,” Aiden says, blinking in surprise. “Matt! Hi.”

“You know each other?” Emily asks, and Aiden nods.

“Yeah, we met at the boys’ show last night. I was an idiot and spilt beer down Matt’s shirt.”

Matt still can’t speak and is fighting the urge to stamp his feet in a childish tantrum because, seriously, _what the hell?_ In those hours of conversation Aiden didn’t think to once mention he was engaged? Heck, even a casual reference to a girlfriend would have saved Matt from feeling like a complete twat right now.

“Hi,” he says eventually, and he hopes that neither of them can hear the crack in his voice. “Right,” he says clearing his throat, “Emily, you wanted to talk centrepieces?”

Emily smiles. “I have _so many_ ideas.”

 

+

 

“I hate my life,” Matt says, his voice muffled from where his head’s buried in his arms.

“There there, mate,” Ali says, patting him on the back and not sounding anywhere near as sympathetic as the situation requires. “So you started falling for a straight guy and now have to watch him marry the woman he loves. It could be worse.”

“How?” Matt says, looking at him incredulously. “ _How_ could it be worse?”

“Well,” Ali says, “you could have actually slept with him.”

Matt waves the barman over and orders another two pints on Ali’s tab and then tells Ali he can order his own damn drinks when he reaches for one.

Ali flips him off but Matt’s pretty sure he means it lovingly.

 

+

 

Matt reminds himself for the tenth time in as many minutes that he’s a _grown-up_ and can totally handle being in the same place as Aiden for an extended time. It’s not like they even know each other that well (obviously) and Matt is a _professional_ and will in no way flirt with the groom-to-be. At all.

“Hey,” Aiden says, walking ‘round the corner with his hands in the pockets of his over-sized cardigan and wearing a giant pair of glasses that shouldn’t suit him but do.

“Hi,” Matt says, “where’s Emily?”

“She couldn’t make it,” Aiden says, pulling a face, “so she sent me instead. Um, choosing a venue won’t be too hard, right?”

Matt stares at him for a moment. “Do you want me to lie?”

Aiden cringes. “Yes please?”

“Okay, sure Aiden, it’s really easy to pick a venue to meet your needs and won’t take all day at _all_.”

“Can we at least stop for coffee on the way?” Aiden sighs. “I won’t make it otherwise.”

“A man after my own heart,” Matt says. He really wishes he didn’t mean it quite so much.

 

+

 

Spending time with Aiden is both awesome and horrific and Matt sends Ali more than one desperate text asking for rescue. Ali sends back a heartfelt ‘ _Ha ha ha!_ ’ and Matt threatens to fire him for the fifth time that month.

“I honestly didn’t know there were that many hotels around here,” Aiden says, shell-shocked.

“Most people don’t. It’s okay, you chose well.”

“I feel like I could sleep for a week,” Aiden says, tipping his head back in the passenger seat of Matt’s car and shutting his eyes. Matt stares determinedly at the road and not at the way Aiden’s eyelashes cast shadows against his cheeks.

“ _Please_ ,” he says instead, “I do this several times a week. Man up.”

Aiden turns his head to watch him and Matt can feel it burning across his skin. “I seriously don’t envy you.”

Matt shrugs. “I enjoy it.”

Aiden hums but doesn’t say anything. Most guys don’t understand it, want to know how and why he got into the business - if it was because of the girls – and it’s even worse when they find out Matt’s gay; he’s heard more homophobic slurs than he cares to repeat thanks to his job title. But he really does enjoy it, and more than that, he’s one of the _best_.

“It’s good that you like it,” Aiden says instead, and Matt blinks.

“Yeah,” he agrees, but Aiden doesn’t continue, just turns up the radio and closes his eyes again.

 

+

 

“So,” Ali says, letting himself into Matt’s flat and kicking at where he’s slumped on the sofa, “in, say, _minutes_ , how long did it take you to fall in love with him?”

Matt sighs and keeps staring at the ceiling but doesn’t even try to lie. “Twenty three,” he says. “He was telling a story about his little sister and this smile caught on his lips and I thought ‘ _I want to keep you_ ’. Fuck. Kill me now. Or at least say you brought booze.”

“Sorry,” Ali lies, “but I did bring Chinese, so, you know, almost as good!”

Matt hasn’t eaten anything other than cake samples in twenty-six hours and his stomach grumbles at the thought.

“Fine,” he says, “but I’m having a whole sweet and sour chicken to myself.”

“I knew you’d say that,” Ali grins. “That’s why I bought two. Now, come on, I’ll let you tell me all about how Aiden’s made of rainbows and his fiancé’s a bitch and I’ll hardly mock you at all.”

“Liar,” Matt says, throwing a chopstick at him, and Ali laughs.

“Yeah,” he says, “but you’re going to talk anyway.”

Matt talks.

 

+

 

Emily has ideas about _everything_ and Matt kind of wants to strangle her.

“I think one starter’s usually enough,” he says, gritting his teeth together and chanting ‘ _professional, professional, professional_ ’ inside his head. “Otherwise the whole night will involve eating and you won’t get to the dancing at all.”

“About that,” Emily says, turning around quickly so her dress flares out. “I wanted to discuss music. Now, I’m not so fond of live bands – too many things can go wrong – so I was thinking maybe just a good sound system and then I can select songs from a playlist.”

“Oh,” Matt says, frowning, “right, okay. I kind of assumed that your friends would be playing?”

Aiden opens his mouth to reply but Emily cuts him off.

“God no,” she says, “no offense to them, they’re sweet boys, but there’s no way they’re playing my _wedding_.”

Matt can see Aiden’s gaze drop to the floor, a crease forming between his eyes as he breathes deeply, and he wonders not for the first time what Aiden thinks he’s _doing_ marrying her.

“That’s fine,” he says, “I know some great sound guys who can set that up for you. You’ll need a fairly long playlist though; we have an iTunes account of appropriate wedding friendly tracks if you need it.”

“Wonderful,” Emily says, smiling.

Matt doesn’t look at Aiden again until they’re outside and he reminds himself that there’s a reason he doesn’t get attached to his clients.

 

+

 

“Um, hi,” someone says nervously, and Matt looks up from where he’s filling dates into his diary. There’s a guy holding a folder at his door that Matt thinks looks vaguely familiar. “Are you Matt?”

“Yeah,” Matt says, “uh…”

“Oh, sorry, I’m Liam. I’m a friend of Aiden Grimshaw’s? His fiancé asked me to drop this off.”

There’s something sharp about the way he says ‘fiancé’ and Matt bites back a grin.

“Right,” he says, and then “oh, wait, you’re the guitarist!”

Liam blinks. “Yeah,” he says, “Aiden said you were at one of our shows.”

“You guys were good,” Matt says, and Liam quirks an eyebrow.

“What you heard anyway.”

“Ah,” Matt says, “yeah. But, you know, you _seemed_ good.”

“We are,” Liam says, and it doesn’t sound conceited, just confident.

He hands Matt the folder in his arms, and Matt frowns as he flicks through the pages.

“Why couldn’t Emily bring this down herself?”

“No idea,” Liam says. "She was probably buying more expensive and useless stuff they don't need for the house they don't have yet."

Matt grins. “Not a fan?”

Liam sighs. “Doesn’t matter whether I am or not.”

“Yeah. If it’s any consolation I talked her out of putting the groomsmen in kilts because her grandma’s half Scottish or whatever,” Matt says, and Liam laughs.

“Thank you,” he says, “seriously.”

Liam turns to go, his fingers curled around the door handle when Matt says, “Aiden: is he happy?”

Liam looks at him and seems to consider his answers carefully.

“I think,” he says, “that Aiden _thinks_ he is. He’s so used to what he has now that I don’t think he remembers when he didn’t feel this way. Why?”

Matt shrugs. “I was just wondering.”

Liam narrows his eyes thoughtfully. “Right. It was nice meeting you, Matt.”

“You too,” Matt says, and Liam offers him a smile that seems a bit too knowing as he leaves.

 

+

 

Matt’s late to work Friday morning; his alarm hadn’t gone off and he’d managed to spill coffee over his trousers when he took a gulp and realised the milk was way past its use-by date, and by the time he makes it into the office he’s in a bad mood, desperately needing a cigarette, and has too many messages on his answer phone.

“Matt!” Rebecca says when he walks in. “Brilliant. Um. Have you checked your phone?”

“Not yet,” Matt says, “why, what’s up?”

“We’ve had a cancellation,” Rebecca says, wincing. Matt understands why; cancellations are no fun for anyone. They mean too many phone calls and placations and no one gets paid as much as they would otherwise, and Matt’s usually the one that has to listen to everyone’s bitching.

“Great,” he says. “If you don’t see me in a few hours, assume I’ve jumped out the window.”

“Sweetie, we’re on the first floor.”

“Fuck.”

Ali’s not in yet, a note on his desk about a morning floral meeting, so Matt goes straight to his office, shutting the door behind him and leaning against it for a moment as he catches his breath.

He braces himself as he takes his phone out of his pocket and thumbs at the missed call button, bringing it his ear. There’s a message from Ali calling him a tosser for stealing his _Back to the Future_ dvd’s, his mum reminding him about his dad’s birthday meal, and then a voice that Matt’s been hearing all too much lately.

 _“Uh, Matt, hey. It’s Aiden. Um, I’m really sorry about this but. Yeah. Emily and I have decided to call off the wedding. We’ll totally still pay you guys and everything, and, I mean, if I need to call anywhere then can you email me the numbers? I left a message at your office but I just wanted to say sorry. I hope it hasn’t fucked up your schedule too much. Uh. Right. Bye, I guess?”_

Matt’s nails are digging into his palm and his hands are shaking and he’s trying to remember whether he’s supposed to be exhaling or inhaling.

He punches the first number on his speed-dial and squeezes his eyes shut as he waits.

“He cancelled the wedding,” he says and soon as Ali picks up.

“I’ll be there in twenty,” Ali says.

Matt slides down the wall and waits.

 

+

 

“Aren’t you always saying that alcohol never solves anything?” Matt says, accepting the shots Ali presses into his hands and downing one after the other.

“That’s in the case of break-ups and family trauma. In this case I say fuck it and drink up.”

Ali grabs more glasses from the bar and passes one over, clinking them together before downing his own, Matt following suit.

“Oh look,” Ali says, “obscenely pretty musicians. Maybe we just need to get you laid?”

Matt follows his line of sight and frowns. “Dude, that’s _Liam_. Shut up.” And then: “Fuck, that’s _Liam_.”

“Don’t tell me there’s more than one guy you’re acting all teenage over,” Ali says, “then I really _may_ have to disown you. For my own sanity, you understand.”

“No,” Matt says, facing the bar and ducking his head as low as possible. “Liam’s a mate of Aiden’s. And Aiden comes to all their gigs.”

“Oh,” Ali says, wincing, “yeah. Fuck. Want to get out of here?”

Matt nods. “Please.”

They push through the crowd towards the door and Matt’s pretty sure he steps on more than one foot but he doesn’t care, just needs to get out.

It’s raining when they get outside, the pavement already glistening and the street opposite a blur of umbrellas. Matt suddenly feels old; all he wants to do is go home, curl up in his pyjamas on the sofa and pretend like his life’s not the plot of some shit Hollywood movie.

Which is why it’s just his luck that they turn the corner and walk straight into Aiden who’s stubbing a cigarette out against the wall. He looks up in surprise and Matt’s breath catches in his throat; his clothes are soaked through and clinging to his skin and there’s raindrops caught on his eyelashes and the bow of his lips, and Matt thinks _’I love you’_.

“Hi,” Aiden says, and he looks awkward and small and perfect.

“Hey,” Matt says, “hi.”

“Um,” Aiden says, “can we talk?”

Matt thinks about all the reasons that’s a bad idea, why he should walk away with Ali, get in a cab and try to pretend he’s forgotten who Aiden even is.

“Yeah,” he says, and Ali nudges him gently.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, and Matt nods, offering him a grateful look.

“So,” Matt says.

Aiden isn’t looking at him, his arms folded tight around his waist, and Matt’s fingers itch to reach out. He sticks his hands in his pockets instead.

“I’m sorry about, you know,” Aiden says, and Matt shrugs.

“It happens,” he says, “we’re used to it.”

Aiden nods, his lower lip caught between his teeth.

“I broke it off,” he says, and Matt wonders why he feels the need to explain. It’s still raining and Matt can feel the cold seeping through his jacket and into his skin, but he doesn’t move. “It wasn’t what I- I think I was just using Emily as an excuse not to have to take risks. We’d been together since school and it just seemed easier to get married than to break up in the end. Only…”

“Only?” Matt says, and he can’t help watching as Aiden’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, catching drops of rain.

Aiden sighs, staring past Matt’s shoulder, and doesn’t answer right away.

“I wanted to kiss you that night,” he says eventually and Matt’s heart pounds in his chest. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything that much, actually. It felt like my skin was on fire. But there was Emily and I’d never do that to her.”

“I would have kissed you back,” Matt says, because he feels like it’s probably something Aiden should know right here, right now.

Aiden looks at him then, and Matt doesn’t know if he’s surprised or if he’d already figured that out but he doesn’t care.

“Emily didn’t cry,” he says. “When I told her I didn’t want to get married. She threw a teacup at me and then said she wasn’t surprised but that she was keeping the kitchenware.”

Matt laughs, he can’t help it, and soon Aiden’s lips are pulling up into the smile Matt hasn’t seen since that first night.

“Matt?” Aiden says, and Matt calms down enough to say “Yeah?”

“Do you maybe want to go out with me sometime?”

Matt’s skin feels too tight and his heart is beating too fast and he feels like a stupid kid but he can’t help smiling anyway.

“I don’t know,” he says, “I mean, you just got out of a really serious relationship.”

“Yeah,” Aiden says, “that’s true. Okay, so I could go make out with someone in the bar, wait a few weeks in which we both mope about like idiots, and then call you and try again?” He steps forward and Matt can see how nervous he is. “Or, we could skip all that rebound crap and you could kiss me like I’ve wanted you to for a month now.”

Matt swallows. “I could do that, yeah.”

Aiden leans forward a little and Matt blames the cold for the way his hands are shaking as he takes them out of his pocket, one resting on Aiden’s hip and the other coming up to cup his jaw; Aiden leans into it, watching Matt with wide eyes and parted lips, and _fuck_.

Aiden tastes like cigarettes and beer and rain and Matt moans into his mouth as Aiden deepens the kiss, wrapping his arms around Matt’s waist and pulling him closer. He can’t quite believe this is happening, isn’t entirely convinced Aiden won’t turn around tomorrow and say it was all a dreadful idea fuelled by fucked up emotions and Matt being in the right place at the right time, but for now he just parts Aiden’s lips with his tongue and stops feeling so cold.

“How’d you know that I felt the same way?” Matt asks when they finally part, Aiden’s lips looking as bruised as his feel.

“Liam,” Aiden says. “He told me about your conversation.”

“Okay,” Matt says, “Liam’s my favourite.”

“Oy!”

“Well, you know, my favourite I don’t want to make out with.”

“Good,” Aiden says, and then ducks his head against Matt’s shoulder and it takes Matt a moment to realise he’s giggling.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing,” Aiden says, “I’m just happy, I guess.”

Matt kisses him again and doesn’t stop.

 

+

 

 _(Three years later Matt marries Aiden in his mum’s back garden and Ali plans everything despite Matt’s complaints. They wear suits but lose the jackets before the ceremony, sleeves rolled up and ties askew, and afterwards One Direction play until everyone’s feet are too sore from dancing. Matt takes Aiden to Italy on their honeymoon but they don’t see much beyond the street outside their hotel, getting lost between cotton sheets and each other’s skin. When they get back their bed is covered in unopened boxes of condoms and there’s a note from Ali that says_ ‘Seriously, don’t even think about coming into work until next week. I plan on stealing your job.’ _Matt fires him for only the second time that month and then kisses Aiden – his husband – until he forgets to breathe.)_


End file.
